


Disconnected Call

by Nononlnkink



Series: Hate Mail [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Verbal Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nononlnkink/pseuds/Nononlnkink
Summary: It is no longer just typed out for him.





	

“Sorry I disconnected on ya,” Ironhide said as he stepped up to Prowl’s side.  

Prowl turned to look at the weapon specialist in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Earlier.”

Oh yes, right. Ironhide had pinged him earlier and when Prowl activated his personal communications channel, there had been a confusion of noise before the red mech’s worried voice came through. He sounded beyond overcharged so Prowl had been ready to march out of his office to find his fellow officer and explain that it wasn’t at all professional for a high-ranking individual to become intoxicated during the orn’s early shift. Prowl had only managed to get Ironhide’s name out before he was promptly disconnected. It had been strange, but he had resolved to talk about it later and so let it go. Seemed Ironhide beat him to it.

Ironhide was still speaking. “I didn’t mean to comm ya in the first place, but ah well.”

“You were severely overcharged.”

“Over-? Not this early.”

Prowl had to suppress an irritated wing flick. “Then would you please explain to me your objective for having pinged me?”

“Jazz was talkin’ to me and he was talkin’ about ya. When I asked what was his deal for waking me up and then ramblin’ on about the favorite drone, I must have sent you a comm line.”

Cliffjumper whipped his head around to grin at the two officers. He stopped tapping at his terminal so his hands were free to gesture with his snide, “Look at that, Prowl. I think that makes the vote all to nothing for you being a defective factory drone.”

Prowl squished down the urge to flare his doorwings up behind him. Even with his control, they still swept up into a defensive posture.

“Hit a sore spot?”

More to knock the smug expression off of Cliffjumper’s faceplates, Prowl spun on his heel and beckoned the red minibot to follow. “Merely deciding how if the twins need assistance with their punishment.” Cliffjumper’s face fell when the rest of the control room snickered.


End file.
